


Caution: Wet NCO

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Sometimes Klinger's schemes get him in over his head. Sometimes he doesn't mind.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Kudos: 11





	Caution: Wet NCO

He sighed, turned on the water figuring  _ you’ll stand or you’ll drown _ .

Though no exhibitionist by nature, Winchester wasn’t ashamed of his body - and he’d be damned if he gave Klinger the satisfaction of reacting to whatever scheme this was. If the Corporal believed he was having an effect, he’d never let up. 

Klinger spluttered in the sudden torrent, turned his head to glare. “Rude, Major.”

“Klinger, I expect mushrooms on the shower floor but not more sentient company. Granted, you are only a small step above fungal matter, but still. What are you doing down there!?

The Corporal’s answer was postponed by the arrival of the 4077th’s other two surgeons - an event Charles could have weathered with his usual amount of dignity if not for Hawkeye living up to his nickname. The dark-haired surgeon nudged his mustachioed counterpart. “Why, Beej, I think we’ve interrupted one of the 4077th’s more slippery trysts!” 

If mere wishes had been capable of impacting the universe, Charles would have evaporated right then. Instead, he was forced to close his eyes, ask for strength and say, “I did not put him there, Pierce. He was there when I arrived and I saw no reason to yield today’s sole chance at warm water to Klinger’s newfound belief that he is a guppy.”

_ First a plant, now a fish _ , thought the Corporal.  _ Moving on up.  _

Pierce’s eyes were dancing, delighted. “You don’t have to cover, Charles. If I could snag a nurse that’d fit, I’d do the same thing.”

“There is no ‘thing.’ We are not doing a ‘thing.”

The acoustics were such that Klinger could be heard from his place on the concrete. “Give it up, Major, they know.” 

BJ muffled a howl in his robe. “‘Major,’ huh? I know they say the men are ‘under’ us officers, Charles, but aren’t you taking things a bit far?”

“ _ I did not put him there _ ! In the first place, I have better taste than to take on this bedraggled creature. In the second, I am a gentleman.” It was very difficult to deliver these lines with Pierce looking like he might crow the news to the dawn sky. 

“Protest all you want, Winchester. Come on Beej - coffee and  _ then _ a shower.”

As they retreated, Winchester still protesting, Charles fished his problematic shower toy off of the floor and sighed. “Tell me why I shouldn’t drown you, Corporal.”

“They’d tease you for the rest of the week either way?” 

“True. But it would be most satisfying.” 

“Major, if you came in here looking for satisfaction, you should have left me right where I was.” 

“Klinger, I am not Pierce. Have a care.” 

The plucky Corporal didn’t back down. “I didn’t want to say so with the other guys in the room, but it was a great view.”

“You’re a menace, Klinger.”

“I get to you, you mean.” 

“I say again, Corporal, this is not a safe course for you. Go back to your tent.”

“Safety, schmafety. I just want to get fucked.” 

Klinger had expected that if Winchester rose to the bait at all, he’d urge him to find a place less trafficked before giving in. 

“Get up,” he told the Corporal. Klinger stood, disappointed but not surprised. 

But then Winchester took the Corporal’s former place, spread his legs apart, and took him so deeply and suddenly into his mouth that Klinger’s knees would have buckled if he hadn’t been being supported. His head snapped back against the wall and water streamed down his throat, his chest. Tiny droplets made crystal constellations on Winchester’s lashes. And as he worked him, mouth hotter than the water, he eased one finger inside. Klinger thrashed, reared back against his touch. 

No one had ever made him this hard this fast before; it almost hurt. When a second finger joined the first, he realized what Winchester intended and he stared down at him, gasping. “Oh, sir...” 

Officers were often hard on noncoms. Klinger knew that. But when Charles lifted him and took him against the wall, he thought that no one had ever had it this hard. When Winchester settled into a rhythm based entirely on acceleration, he pressed a hand against his mouth to keep from screaming for joy. “You’re so big,” he heard himself mumble stupidly, one of those huge hands covering so much of him, inspiring new fantasies even as he tried to feel more inside of this one. 

Though he wanted to draw it out, Winchester knew they were playing against time, chancing getting caught for real rather than just being needled by Pierce and Hunnicutt. And he wanted to see Klinger break for him. The Corporal didn’t disappoint, legs wrapping tight around him, face buried in his neck. When Charles lowered the shaking thing, Klinger leaned against him, fighting to breathe. “I trust,” Winchester said, going back to bathing, “this was a more satisfying wake up than the calisthenics the Colonel has been recommending?” 

Klinger shivered; he’d been hot for the Major’s voice before, but the cool, unaffected pose made what he’d just experienced that much more fascinating. He nodded. “What about you, Major?”

“Cold showers solve plenty of problems.”

It hardly seemed right. “I really hope you mean that just as a temporary solution,” he ventured. “I bunk by myself, you know.” 

“An invitation, Corporal?” 

“A standing one,” Klinger teased. Then, hopefully, “Please?”

In the past, Winchester’s encounters had been almost violent in their brief intensity. He’d thoroughly expected Klinger to leave without speaking at all. Now he reached out, something his past lovers hadn’t permitted once their needs had been met, and touched the Corporal’s hopeful face. Klinger grabbed for his hand and kissed between each knuckle. “Please?” he asked again. “I’ll wear something pretty.” 

That made him laugh. “Now I shall have to appear just to see what it is.”

Klinger beamed. “You won’t regret it, sir.” 

He left to dress then, but before going to work, he looked back with a sweet shyness in his face. “I’m going to take good care of you,” he said and it wasn’t his usual confident voice, making a declaration. It was low and fond and grateful- almost, Winchester decided later, like a vow. 

***

He walked across the compound in full darkness, head full with images and sensations: the, high, birdlike cry Klinger hadn’t managed to suppress as he came, the wet, spilled-ink shine of his hair, the way his lips had shaped himself around that forbidden word. “I just want to get fucked.” The memory shook him. He wished it had been phrased a little differently, say, “I just want you to fuck me, Major.” Had Klinger really wanted  _ him _ ? Or would anyone have done just as well? Should he even continue on with this?  _ You pleased him _ , some selfish part of him said,  _ why shouldn’t you receive the same, ah, courtesy? _ But he was a Winchester. He was supposed to be above pure desire.  _ But those dark eyes. _ .. 

He emerged from this reverie to find those eyes looking into his. “Going somewhere, Corporal?” He forced himself to sound normal. 

“To find you. I, uh, I was worried you might’ve changed your mind.” He opened the tent door and cocked his head for the Major to enter. 

Being “inside” (as much “inside” as the army pop-up could offer) made Winchester both more and less nervous. They weren’t going to be overheard, now, but being so close to Klinger, to be surrounded by his things, had him aching with want. “You would have been upset?” 

Klinger looked like he’d been hit upside the head. “Major, forget the fact that you’ve had me thinking of you all day today every time I sat down.” He was pleased to see Charles blush at that. “I know I’ve got a reputation for scams, Major, but ask around - I haven’t spent any time waiting around in the bottom of anyone else’s shower.” He searched his eyes. “Did you think it was just sex for me?”

Charles didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. 

Klinger shook his head. “I was already worried about living up to that once-over you gave me in the showers. This is more important, though.” He grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bed, wrapped himself around him. “What got you thinking such a silly thing, Major?” 

Charles snuggled into his neck, breathed in the smell of him: wood smoke from the stove and blood oranges, some bright, sharp spice and black licorice. “No one’s ever wanted me for more than... that... Maxwell.” 

“Good.”

“Good!?” It made him reemerge from the warm shelter of his throat. 

“If those people, whoever they are, had wanted you, I would’ve had to bring you letters from that special someone and I never would’ve had a chance. This place is bad, Major, but that would be hell. I’d’ve had to go and get myself hurt because it would hurt to be that close to you and know I couldn’t ever touch you.”

The words weren’t fine or poetic, but they got Winchester to pull him close. “That’s better,” Klinger said into his hair, mostly to himself. He angled his face to catch Winchester’s mouth. Whatever eloquence might have been missing from his speech was there in that kiss and Winchester found himself falling back, hands reaching up to card through Klinger’s hair. 

“Tell me what to do,” Klinger urged. 

Charles didn’t know how to ask. No one had ever asked after his pleasure before. 

“Come on, Charles.” He saw the man tremble. “Okay. You like it when I say your name, anyway. That’s a start.” He pushed his shirt up, untucking it, and pulled his pants down. Charles’ hand reached out to help him with his belt, but Klinger pushed him away. He bent and kissed the snowy expanse of stomach he’d exposed, saw Charles shake under his mouth. His fingers slipped into the golden curls between his legs, opened his thighs. He kissed through that wiry nest, murmuring his name, telling him he was beautiful. 

And he didn’t stop there. He held him open to tease the edges, pushed his tongue inside. Charles made a sobbing sound. Head still down, he placed one hand on his abdomen to still him. “Cool it, Major. I want to. So either enjoy it or tell me what else you want.” 

Charles didn’t say no. When Klinger had worked him up that way, he scooted back enough to take him into his mouth. “Any requests yet?” 

He saw Winchester’s eyes kindle. 

“Oh?” 

Charles nodded. 

“I love you prim and proper, Charles, but lemme hear it,  _ please _ .” 

He started slowly. “I… I want…” His chest rose and fell rapidly, a blush spreading down from his neck. “Hell with it. Fuck me, Max.” 

That accent combined with  _ that _ word might have pushed Klinger over the edge all by themselves - but he wasn’t going alone, not again. He wasn’t as big as Charles - not anywhere near - but he wasn’t looking to hurt him, either. Besides, Charles made pretty noises when he pushed inside of him with his tongue again (Klinger wasn’t completely sure, but he thought Charles gasped out something like, “God, Max, you’re like  _ silk _ …!”) and when he added his fingers, Charles made a sound like a sob - a  _ delighted _ sob. 

“Max, now!” he begged then, and Klinger earned his reputation as a clothes horse when he shucked his current outfit with a speed and efficiency a runway model would have envied. Charles didn’t like being apart from him, though, even for the seconds it took for him to undress and press into him inch by determined inch. 

Klinger opened his eyes wider, as if in doing so he could take more in. His eyes flicked from Charles’ overwarm face to the place where he was sinking inside him. Where Charles had taken him hard and fast and sure - locating that sweet spot inside of him so easily - Klinger made it last, pulling out before going deeper, making Charles reach for him and hold him tight against him to keep him sheathed. 

Then, in a motion neither of them had anticipated, Charles moved underneath him, milking him, teasing him until he had to answer his lover’s frantic motions with an equally rapid pace. Klinger gave himself over to him, hoping to be enough. He turned out to be more than Charles had hoped for, and the Major kept him close as they seemed to fall, together, through a shower of cool sparks. 

Hair slicked to his skin with sweat, Klinger was the first to speak. “I’m going to need a shower, Major.” 

“Back to the scene of the crime? And will you be remaining upright this time or kneeling at my feet once more?” 

“If it gets you back here again, I’ll do whatever you want.” 

Charles thought about warning him not to give him that much power, but there was something in Klinger’s grin that said he knew just how much he got to him, too. 

“Come on,” he said, smiling more than he meant to. “The showers are certain to be cold this time of night, but if you behave yourself, I’ll show you my favorite way to get warm.”

Klinger followed with a positive bounce in his step. 

End! 

  
  
  



End file.
